Painting Box - 2010 Remaster

When the morning of your eyes comes waking through my shadows
 Leaving just a trace of twilight sleep,
 I whisper to the baby raindrops playing on my window,
 And tell them gently this is not the time that they should weep.
 For somewhere in my mind there is a painting box,
 I have every color there it's true.
 Just lately when I look inside my painting box,
 I seem to pick the colors of you.
 My Friday evening's foot-steps plodding dully through this black town,
 Are far away now from the world that I'm in.
 My eyes are listening to some sounds that I think just might be springtime,
 With daffodils between my toes I'm laughing at their whim,
 And somewhere in my mind there is a painting box,
 I have every color there it's true,
 Just lately when I look inside my painting box,
 I seem to pick the colors of you.
 Oh somewhere in my mind there is a painting box,
 I have every color there it's true.
 Just lately when I look inside my painting box,
 I seem to pick the colors of you.
 The purple sail above me catches all the strength of summer.
 Fishes stop and ask me where I am bound.
 I smile and shake my head and say my little ship is sinking,
 But I kind of like the sea that I'm on, and I don't mind if I do drown.
 For somewhere in my mind there is a painting box,
 I have every color there it's true.
 Just lately when I look inside my painting box,
 I seem to pick the colors of you.